


Past Grief

by Emma



Series: The Queen's Magicians [14]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is back, but trouble arrives in the form of one of his oldest enemies</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're keeping count, this is my version of _Kiss Kiss, Bang, Bang_. The title comes from A Winter's Tale, Act 3 Scene 2: _What's gone and what's past help Should be past grief._

     “A cluricaune? What the blinkin' hell is a cluricaune?”  
  
     Ianto winced. Owen could put more irritation into a single sentence than anyone else he knew. “A cluricaune, or clúrachán, is one of the three solitary sidhe, the other ones being the leprechaun and the far darrig.”  
  
     Gwen smothered a yawn. “What I want to know is, what is he doing with all that plonk he's stolen?”  
  
     They had been up for three days, after one of their police contacts had called to tell them about the strange little man who was raiding cellars all over Cardiff. At the home of Sir Joseph Treaherne, a well-known oenophile, he had left behind only a couple of cases of new wine Sir Joseph had acquired as a novelty to entertain his friends at a dinner party, but not before tasting it and expressing his opinion by pissing all over the bottles. They had been called in when one of the groundskeepers at Treaherne estate, an Irish man with a reputation for common sense and sober living, had sworn up and down that it had been one of the _daoine beaga_ , the little folk.  
  
     “He drinks it.”  
  
     “He what?” Owen stared at him. “Ianto, not even a fairy could drink that much!”  
  
     “Actually,” Tosh sounded like she was suppressing a fit of the giggles, “that's what a cluricaune does. He drinks. And drinks. And drinks. And if he offers to pay for it he uses the _spré na scillenagh_ , magical coins that return to him after he's gone. Not that this one has offered.”  
  
     Ianto grinned at her. “Tosh plotted his visits and he's working his way through the city in a slingshot pattern...”  
  
     “As befits a drunken fairy,” Owen muttered.  
  
     “Owen, please,” Gwen said. “Drunk or not, he can still knock us on our arses. Polite goes a long way with the Fair Ones.”  
  
      “All right, all right. So we're here outside the...” he moved around until he could see the sign on the pub across the street, “Anchor and Copper waiting for him to show up?”  
  
      “Exactly.” Ianto calibrated his scanner and nodded to Tosh. “The owner is a friend of my father’s. He's watching from inside and will signal us. The little folk can fool scanners sometimes.”  
  
     They waited while the pub emptied and the street grew dark as storefront stores and restaurants shut down for the night. It was dampish, but the rain had stopped in the afternoon, so at least they didn't have to contend with wet shoes or wet necks. Another hour passed, and just as Ianto was ready to give up for the night, they saw two flashes of light coming from the one of the windows. Ianto sprinted towards the alleyway that ran between the pub and the Indian restaurant next door. The others followed, pulling out their weapons.  
  
     Ianto led them through a door that opened into a walled garden with raised beds bursting with vegetables and herbs. Light spilled into the square from a large kitchen window. He pointed at the kitchen door, then at a narrow passageway leading to a side door. Owen nodded and moved towards the kitchen door, followed quickly by Tosh, while Ianto and Gwen headed for the side door.  
  
     Suddenly the silence was broken by wild laughter and the sound of bottles exploding like popcorn. They looked at each other and, abandoning any attempt at stealth, rushed through the door. They found themselves in a long, low public room that tried its best to mimic a nineteenth century gentleman’s club. They could see Owen and Tosh running in from the kitchen side, guns at the ready, only to skid to a stop, much as they themselves had done.  
  
     The cluricaune sat in mid-air, swigging from bottle after bottle while throwing the empties violently down to crash on the tiles and send shards flying in every direction. Behind the bar, an old man shielded a young woman from the flying glass; he had several cuts in his arms and face, and a long, jagged piece of green glass protruded from his shoulder. Every once in a while he would try to inch slowly out of the cluricaune’s line of sight, only to be brought back by a well-aimed bottle. The girl seemed about to collapse with terror;  it was clear that it wouldn't take much to tip her into catatonia.  
  
     Ianto saw Owen's eyes take in the condition of the old man and the girl and he knew they were all in trouble.  
  
     “Oi, you drunk fairy!” Owen shouted as he stepped into the room.  
  
     The cluricaune turned without losing his cross-legged stance. “Well, look who's here. Torchwood.” His head swiveled in all direction. “The Healer who cannot heal himself. The Medium who hides from her dead. The Speaker to Animals who silences her own voice.” He glared at Ianto. “And that leaves the Heir who fears his own nature. All of you, lost without your master. All of you, pretending to be so brave.” He began to swell. His mouth became an enormous slash filled with dirty yellow fangs and his nails lenghtened into knives. “Which one of you will fight me?”  
  
     Ianto couldn't really see what happened. One moment the cluricaune was sitting in midair and the next he was behind the bar, slapping the old man half-way across the room and holding the girl in front of him like a shield, with one arm wrapped around her neck. The girl's terrified screams trailed off into a gurgle as his elbow tightened, cutting off her air. “Well, which one of you will take the chance that your cold iron will kill her instead? Which one of you will bear her soul's destruction? Do you dare pay the price, as your master has done? Do you...”   
  
  
     Whatever else he was going to say was lost in the loud bark of a Webley. The cluricaune slid to the floor in a heap that smoked and smouldered. Ianto turned towards the sound, heart nearly jumping out of his chest, terrified of disappointment.  
  
     Jack stood by the front door, still in his usual shooting stance. “Hi, kids. Did you miss me?”  
  
     Ianto didn't know who gave the loud banshee screech as they all ran at Jack, throwing themselves at him. It turned into a group hug as Jack distributes kisses at random. Even Owen came in for a loud smack on the lips. Then the others detached themselves and left him and Jack standing with their arms around each other's waists. He was aware of Owen and Gwen moving to help the old man and the girl while Tosh scanned the pile of old rags and acrid-smelling bones that had been the cluricaune, but his attention was completely focused on Jack, who was shaking as he hung on, burying his face into Ianto's neck and inhaling as if trying to breath in Ianto's essence.  
  
     “Jack,” Ianto whispered. “Are you all right?”  
  
     “Now I am.” Jack tightened his arms a little. “We'll talk later. I promise.”  
  
     He stepped back. “Tosh, don't stand so close. It's going to catch fire soon.” As if Jack's comment were an order the cluricaune's corpse burst into flames that jumped high over Tosh's head and immediately died down, leaving behind a pile of ash. “Gwen, did you call the constabulary yet? Good. Owen, any major damage to either Mr. Stoner or his daughter?”  
  
     Trust Jack to know who the two people were, Ianto thought, as he helped Tosh collect samples.  
  
     “No.” Owen stood up. “Cuts and bruises, mostly. They're going to need a spiritual Healer, though.”  
  
     “Agreed. “ He looked around. “Where is Andy?”  
  
     “On his way back from Ireland.” Ianto put the sample bags into a zippered carry bag and activated the Seals. “There has been some strange news coming out of Carraig Phádraig. He was asked by Mother Katherine to go investigate. Something about his having a foot in at Court?”  
  
     Jack nodded. “I introduced him a number of years ago to my cousin Nuada and his wife Grainne at Slieveragh. Grainne has relatives in Phádraig, and she is very fond of Andy. If anyone can get the Lord Ogma to speak to a Christian it might just be her.”  
  
     “When he called all he said was that he had interesting news.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Which might mean anything from _there are rumours but nothing solid_ to _batten down the hatches there's a shitstorm coming_.”  
  
     Jack laughed. “That's my Andy.” He cocked his head. “The police are here.”  
  
     A few minutes later a plainclothes inspector swaggered in, followed by a senior constable and several uniformed patrol men. The constable smug expression collapsed into chagrin as he spotted Jack.  
  
     “Good evening, Inpector Lougher.” Jack was at his most charming. “I believe my team has taken care of your little thief. I think I shall leave you to manage. You can, can't you? The pile of ashes is your criminal and the two people over there have received first aid but need medical attention. I'll file a report with the Chief tomorrow.” A single gesture brought the others to his side. “Now I think I shall buy them a well deserved beer, take them home, and tuck them in for the night.”  
  
     He swept out, coat flaring. The others fell into their usual phalanx behind him. Ianto caught Tosh's eye and they grinned at each other. They could hear muttering from some of the assembled police, but they also got more than a few discreet smiles and nods as they passed. At that moment Ianto didn't care one way or another. He was where he belonged, right behind Jack's left shoulder.  
  
     Outside, the usual crowd had gathered. Ianto noticed he didn't have to tell Jack where he had parked the SUV, which probably meant Jack had been tracking them for a while. They followed in his wake. As they passed the onlookers, a young girl darted out and grabbed Jack's coat.  
  
     “Captain Harkness, sir.” Her voice had the soft tinge of the Romani Cymreig. “I have something for you.”  
  
     Jack crouched to be at her eye level. “Have you, my sweet?”  
  
     “Aye.” She offered him an envelope. “From your friend in Helmantika.”  
  
     Ianto couldn't see Jack's face, but the sudden rigidity of his back told him all he needed to know.  
  
     “Thank you, my sweet.” Jack reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a coin. “And this is for you. Tell your sero that Jack sends his regards.”  
  
     “And so I will,” she curtsyed and was gone in a flash, disappearing into the crowd.  
  
     “Jack?” Gwen asked hesitantly.  
  
     Jack turned to face them and Ianto was shocked by the coldness in his eyes. He opened the envelope and pulled out three dried oak leaves. He rubbed them between his fingers for a few long moments, then looked at them. “I have to go meet someone. Stay here. Don't follow me.”  
  
     “Jack!” Gwen protested.  
  
     Jack jumped into the SUV and drove away, leaving them staring at each other.  
  
     “The bastard!” Owen exploded. “He shows up, he leaves, just like that? No explanation?”  
  
     Tosh dug into her bag and produced her tablet. “I can track him.”  
  
     Gwen was looking at Ianto. “You know where he's going, don't you?”  
  
     “Yes.” He put two fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle. “Taxi!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, Gorsedd Circle is an actual Neolithic structure.  
>  Sine Sindearg is one of the sons of Mannanan mac Lir. Therefore John is related to Lugh and Cuchulainn, the hero of the _Táin Bó Cúailnge_.  
>  Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa http://www.esotericarchives.com/agrippa/agrippa1.htm. He was a far nicer man than I make him out to be!

     Jack ran down the gravel path. Ahead, the great bluestones of the Gorsedd Circle, illuminated only by the castle's security lights, seemed to hover in midair like ghosts. Inside the circle, the Achlesyddion Oaks were a dark mass. Their ancient voices whispered inside his head, welcoming him into their company. _What happened to me, Doctor? What am I now?_  
  
     He stopped at the edge of the circle and looked around. He knew John wouldn't have entered. Even John Hart would not have dared flout the power of oak and stone, not here, where they were almost as old as the earth itself.  
  
     “Hello, Jack.”  
  
     Jack turned and watched John emerge from the shadows. His former lover wore his usual costume of riding breeches, skin-tight undershirt, and boots, but this time it was topped by some sort of Napoleonic era officer's coat. It looked authentic. So did the sword he carried over his shoulder. Jack didn't think he wanted to know how John had gotten his hands on either one of them.  
  
     “John. What are you doing in Cardiff?”  
  
     John kept walking until he was pressed close. They stared at each other for a moment, and then John reached up and their lips met. Jack had known John would do it, and he had allowed it, curious to know whether the kiss would bring passion or revulsion; instead there was a sad acceptance and a memory of fire. He felt John's hand on his neck and he stepped back.  
  
     “So it's true,” Hart said. “You've been haltered and blinkered.”  
  
     “What do you want from me, John?”  
  
     “I need your help.”  
  
“You need to go. I don't want you in my territory.”  
  
     “Time was you couldn't get enough of me in your territory.” Suddenly he whipped around, pointing into the darkness beyond the edge of the meadow. “Come on out. We're all friends here.”  
  
     Jack watched in resigned amusement as his team emerged from the trees. He really should have known. “John...”  
  
“Ashamed to introduce me?”  
  
     Jack shook his head. “Everyone, this is John Hart. Former lover, former friend, former Prince of the house of Sine Sindearg.” He did not miss the sudden rage that flashed in John's eyes at that last part. “John, from the left, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Gwen Cooper, and Ianto Jones.”  
  
     “Pretty little friends you have, Jack. A pretty little team. No blondes, though. You really need a blonde.”  
  
     Jack could not stop himself from smiling at the memory the image invoked. John always could make him smile, even in the most inappropriate circumstances. And half the time that was the whole trouble. “What do you want, John?”  
  
     “I told you. Help. You remember Micaela de Rosalban?”  
  
     Jack winced. Micaela had been a fellow student at the University of Salamanca, a strange, withdrawn, brilliant girl. One day she had just disappeared, and the University faculty had discouraged any questions. Rumour had it she had gone very far down the Dark Paths. “Yeah.”  
  
     “She called me three weeks ago. Sounded terrified and exhilarated at the same time. Quite insane, actually.” He shrugged. “I finally managed to drag out of her that she was in hospital in Dublin. She pleaded with me to go see her, so I did.”  
  
     'Why? The two of you never got along.”  
  
     “Maybe that's why. It was odd. Of all people to call, why me? But she was insistent and you know me, I'm probably related to cats. Anyway, to cut this short, when I got there I was told she was dying. She had made her confession and received last rites in the Catholic church. It turned out talking to me was part of the penance her priest had imposed on her. Well, not me, necessarily. Just someone who would do something for her after she died.”  
  
     “And that was?”  
  
     “It seems the rumours were true, Jack. She had apprenticed herself to...” John cut off what he was going to say and started again. “Her master had found the hiding place of the Agrippa grimoire.”  
  
     Jack felt as if thousands of tiny cold feet had scampered up and down his spine. “John, that's not funny.”  
  
     “Do I look like I'm laughing?” John retorted angrily. “Turns out it was the one thing that terrified Micaela out of her wits. She broke her geas and ran. Of course it killed her, but she didn't care. She said it was the one thing of power she wouldn't trade her soul for.”  
  
     “Where is it?” Jack whispered harshy.  
  
     “That's the thing.” John reached into his pocket and took out a small scroll tied with what looked like braided hair. “The one who stole it in the first place didn't want it found, but didn't want it completely lost either. He hid it, then split the directions for finding it into three different documents and hid those, and then wrote the information for locating the directions in this scroll. The only thing I can figure out is that the instructions are hidden here, in Cardiff. The rest... I've run into a wall.”  
  
     Jack studied him for a few minutes. “We need to go to the Hub.” He tossed the SUV's keys to Ianto and grinned as his lover caught them easily. “You go ahead. John and I won't be far behind.”  
  
     He watched them leave and then turned to John. “Now. What aren't you telling me?”  
  
     “You were always a suspicious bastard.” John's cockiness withered until Jack's steady stare. “All right, all right. I tried to find it first. Agrippa's own grimoire? Bloody hell. But since I haven't been what you can call a success at codebreaking, well, better in your hands than in somebody else's. We both know several somebody elses who really should not get their hands on this.”  
  
     “Agreed.” He waited in silence until he heard Ianto confirm their arrival in the Hub and then offered John his hand. “All right, let's go.”   
  
     John grinned, cocky again. “You trust me?”  
  
     “Only as far as I can throw you. But you need me for now, so I'm betting I'm safe.”  
  
     John grasped his hand, interlacing the fingers as if they were still lovers. Jack kept his muscles relaxed, knowing that any reaction on his part gave John an advantage. The great stones and the oaks blurred and in a few seconds he was standing in the Plas, near the fountain. John looked around curiously.  
  
     “So where is this Hub you were taking about?”  
  
     Jack yanked him on to the slab. “Hang on.”  
  
     As the slab started moving downwards, Hart smirked at him. “You live in a sculpture. Could you be any more pretentious?” He peered downwards. “It's roomy, I'll give you that. Your taste in interior design hasn't got any better, though. What is this, sewer chic?”  
  
     The slab came to a stop slightly above its usual place. Jack hopped off and waited until Ianto joined him, holding a silver tray in his hands. They exchanged a small smile, then Jack turned back to John. “Weapons, please.”  
  
     Hart placed the sword on the tray Ianto offered him, followed with a pistol and a death's head pendant, then held out his empty hands.   
  
     “Blooded athame in a sheath strapped to his leg, and several Truth coins in the inner pocket of the jacket,” Gwen called out from her perch near the greenhouse.   
  
     Hart made a face and produced the items. “That's a nice little trick. I thought she was a medium?”  
  
     Jack smirked but didn't answer. “Ianto, Owen, would you take our guest to the conference room and make him comfortable? Ianto, coffee if it's possible, please? I've been dreaming of your coffee for... a very long time. John, the scroll. Tosh, scan it into Mainframe and start working. Gwen, with me.”  
  
     He walked upstairs to his office, knowing she was following him. As he entered, he looked around. Everything was exactly where he had left it. Shedding his coat, he sighed with pleasure.  
  
     “Jack, why me and not Ianto?”  
  
     He laughed. “My Gwen, direct to the point as usual. You should ask why am I afraid to talk to Ianto.” He slid into his chair. “How long was I gone, Gwen?”  
  
     “Five months, three weeks, and two days,” she answered promptly.   
  
     “Better than I thought. It was much longer for me. Felt like it anyway.” He made a show of looking through the papers on the desk so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes. “I don't know how he feels anymore. I don't...”  
  
     Gwen slapped her hand down on top of the pile. “What the hell does that mean? He loves you, Jack. More than that, he believes in you. There were days when the only thing that kept us going was Ianto's belief that you loved us and you would come back to us. What makes you think he would have given up on the two of you?” Jack looked up at her and she must have seen the sudden relief and hope in his eyes because she chuckled. “Git.”  
  
     “Yeah.” Suddenly something caught his attention and he grabbed her hand. “Whoah. That ring is on the wrong finger.”  
  
     “No, it's on the right one. Rhys and I got married two months ago. Civil ceremony, and don't worry, the other one is planned for Equinox eve. Both our mothers have got the bit in their teeth. They have bonded with Mother Katherine and I think it's going to end up being six hours long, what with Pagan and Christian and Goddess knows what else.” She walked around the desk, pulled him to his feet, and hugged him. “But it's nice to know you'll be here for it.”  
  
     He swallowed to keep from crying. “It'll be wonderful.” He took a deep breath and tried to regain his balance. “So, Gwen, if you needed a refresher on the use of condoms...”  
  
     She slapped his shoulder and he just managed to stop himself moaning in agony. “Oi, more respect! No, it's that... you remember the little girl Rhys found in the park?”  
  
     “The Tuatha girl?”  
  
     “We've sent messages to all the courts and nobody is claiming her. Owen and Tosh did some tests and they say she's part human, which is probably part of the trouble, but nobody is even claiming the rest of the bodies. King Gwyn gave them a proper burial but he can't afford to foster the baby.”  
  
     “Too many political implications if she turns out to be well connected.”  
  
     Gwen nodded. “Exactly. And Rhys did promise to take care of her, at least that's what he says and I believe him, though I think it was just love at first sight. So we're in the process of adopting her and of course it's easier when it's a married couple, so we decided to go through the legalities just in case.” Her face was alight with happiness. “We've named her Aine. Aine Toshiko.”  
  
     Jack squeezed her hand. “I'm happy for you. Both of you.”  
  
     “ _Jack, Gwen, please come to the conference room_ ” Even over the comm Tosh sounded as if she were going to start giggling any second. _“I think I've found us some answers_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwenllian was the daughter of Prince Llywelyn the Last. As her father had no male heirs, she was first in line to her father's throne. When she was just a few months old her father was killed and she was imprisoned for life in a monastery on the orders of Edward I. In “my” history, Llywelyn and Edward, after years of inconclusive fighting, betrothed their children. After their deaths, the Kingdoms of England and Gwynnedd descended to Edward II and his wife, Gwenllian, Queen of England and Princess of Wales.

     Jack and Gwen entered the conference room to find Tosh and Owen grinning like Cheshire cats and John leaning back on his chair, looking relaxed and completely at home. It would have fooled anyone, but Jack knew that tight-around-the-eyes look from long experience: someone had slapped John down and he was trying hard to give the impression the verbal blow hadn't landed in a sensitive place. Since he knew which one of his team had the acerbic wit to match John word for word, he looked around for Ianto.  
  
     “Ianto?”  
  
     “I'm right here, sir.” Ianto entered the room from the kitchenette. “Just making some coffee and setting out something to eat.”  
  
     He put the tray down on the table and started to pass mugs around. He made it a point to linger over Jack's coffee, handing it over with a soft caress to Jack's palm.  
  
     “All right, all right, Eye-Candy, I get the point,” John said. “Can we get down to business? I don't want to be in Cardiff any longer than I have to. ”  
  
 _Eye-Candy?_ Jack mouthed at Ianto and got a shrug in return, plus a soft snicker from Gwen, who had noticed the interaction.  
  
     “Well? How long will it take to get the information?” John said impatiently.  
  
     “Not long at all.” Tosh looked up from her laptop. “Not much for maths, are you?”  
  
     “No, not really,” John admitted. “They interfere with my visualizations for some reason.”  
  
     “I thought so.” Tosh pressed a key and a map of Cardiff was displayed on the large screen built into the glass wall. “They are coordinates. The first one is for this building,” a small image with an arrow pointing to a place on Bute Street appeared superimposed on the map. “Ninety-Seven Bute Street. Grade II building. Currently used by the Household and Shipping Bank. The second is for this place,” the image of a cemetery appeared opposite the first one, arrow pointed to St. Mary's Church in Llandaff. “And the last is here.” A large dock area with a restored complex of buildings and modern container facilities appeared, slightly lower than the other two. “Queen Gwellian's Docks.”  
  
     “Those are very large places to search,” Owen remarked.  
  
     “Not really.” Tosh put three small square devices on the table. “These are energy scanners. The original document Mr. Hart brought us has a very definite energy signature. I'm going on the assumption that the original owner was going to use it as a magnet of sorts. We can do the same. I've preprogrammed these. Just aim and sweep. It will do this,” she pressed a button and three soft pings were heard. “The closest you are to it, the louder it will do it.”  
  
     “You are a genius,” John said, beaming at her. “Too bad you've fallen into such bad company. All right. We can divide into three teams, go looking, and then meet back here. Jack...”  
  
     “I don't think so,” Gwen said firmly. “Jack and Ianto to the building, Tosh and Owen to the cemetery, and you and me to the docks.”  
  
     John turned to the head of the table. “Jack...”  
  
     Jack shrugged. “It seems she's the boss. Besides, neither you nor I could operate that scanner properly. The moment we touched it our own energy would burn it out.”  
  
     John scowled. “Fine, then. We should get going.” He strode off without looking back.  
  
     “Gwen,” Jack said, “three rules. One - don't believe anything he says. Two - always keep him in front of you. And three - under no circumstances let him kiss you.”  
  
     “As if I would!”  
  
     “Has he gotten to the no-kissing rule yet?” John's voice sounded smug. “He only invented that because he wants me all to himself.”  
  
     Gwen shook her head. “Ego, much?”  
  
     She grabbed one of the scanners and hurried off after him. Tosh and Owen followed. Jack smiled uncertainly at Ianto and made a small gesture towards the scanner. Ianto picked it up. He studied Jack for a long moment, then pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them in his direction.  
  
     “You drive.”  
  
     It was a very short drive through deserted streets. Jack reveled in the freedom of the wind rushing past his face, and he laughed for the sheer pleasure of it. He found a parking space a short distance away from the back door of the building and they jogged the rest of the way. It felt _right_ to Jack, as nothing, _nothing_ , had in the last year, to be running down a Cardiff street with Ianto at his side.  
  
     The building's locks were almost comically easy to dispose of. As Ianto swept the scanner in a circle around the small mail receiving room, it immediately started emitting beeps that became stronger as they moved towards the spiral stairs leading to the upper floors. They climbed the stairs, bypassing the first floor as the beeping tended to fade away the moment they ventured into the cubicle forest that took up most of the area.  
  
     “Secretarial pool,” Ianto murmured. “Let's go up.”  
  
     In the second floor the beeping was louder and they started to search the walls for possible hidden spaces.  
  
     “The sound is louder as I reach this area here.” Ianto said, pointing towards one of the windows. “So it's somewhere on the frame or...” he opened the window and pointed the scanner upwards, “on the roof.”  
  
     “How are you, Ianto?” Jack blurted out. _Really clever opening, Jack_.  
  
     “All the better for having you back, sir.”  
  
     “Can we maybe drop the sir? It makes me feel you're angry at me. Which you have a right to be, but... While I was away, I was thinking... Maybe we could, when this is all done... Dinner? A movie?”  
  
     Ianto turned to stare at him in astonishment. “Are… you asking me out on a date?”  
  
     Jack found himself shaking. “Interested?”  
  
     “You twypsyn.”  
  
     Ianto stalked over to where Jack was standing and pulled him into a tight hug that turned into a hungry passionate devouring of each other's mouths. Jack felt Ianto's tongue stroke his and nearly whimpered as he sucked on it. He traced Ianto's body through his clothes, almost as if to reassure himself that Ianto was there, real, and that he, Jack, was real, and not a figment of the imagination of some mad God. He pushed his face against Ianto's neck and clung to him, shaking, while his lover made soft shushing noises and kneaded his back.  
  
     “You're going to have to tell me what put you in this state, cariad. And then I'm going to find it and shoot it.”  
  
     Jack laughed. “Oh, Ianto.” He wiped the tears from his face. “Right. We need to find this thing. Then we'll crawl into bed and talk for hours. Days, if you want.”  
  
     “Jack, why are we helping him?”  
  
     “If he's telling the truth, we need to get that damned book, and I use the word literally, under lock and key. And the sooner we find it, the sooner he leaves. He's a reminder of my past. I want him gone.”  
  
     Ianto pressed a brief kiss to his temple. “Then you go to the roof and start there. You're good on roofs,” he said, teasing. “I'll finish here and then join you.”  
  
     “All right.” Jack headed for the stairs. “Ianto, about that date... I was serious.”  
  
     “Good. I'll hold you to it.”  
  
     Jack climbed the stairs, whistling. Ianto still wanted him, still loved him. Nothing was more important than that, even the grimoire. Even... what had happened to him.  
  
     The roof was typical of a renovated Victorian, with modern air-conditioning and heating equipment side by side with leaded skylights. Jack looked around. There were things John didn't know about him, abilities he had kept secret even during the time they had been lovers. He realized with a start that he had kept nothing back from Ianto, and the realization made him laugh. He was going to have to get Gwen and Tosh to go shopping with him. Women had better taste in rings than men did.  
 __  
Business first, Jack my man. He closed his eyes and searched using only his Sight. It didn't take long to locate it. On the corners of the building, the architect had decided on ornamental spouts resembling eagles' heads with open beaks. One of them glowed red to his inner Eye.  
  
     He negotiated the maze of equipment and reached the corner with only one stubbed toe, which he considered a win for the good guys. Reaching into the bird's beak, he rooted around until he found a small lever. He pulled it. A feather on the back of the eagle's neck moved out of the way. Tightly wedged inside was a copper cylinder. He dug it out.  
  
     “That's as far as it goes, Jack. Give it to me.”  
  
     He turned slowly to face John, who stood a few feet away, holding a gun. “What did you do with Gwen?”  
  
     “Don't worry. She's fine. Well, she'll be fine if you find her in time.”  
  
     “Pray we find her, John.”  
  
     “Why are you always so concerned with these ephemerals?” John nearly snarled. “They're a blip in time for people like us!”  
  
     “This particular ephemeral,” Jack said with a vicious grin, “is the goddaughter of the sister of King Gwynn ap Nudd. He's rather taken with her himself, after she helped save Cardiff from Abbadon.”  
  
     John sighed. “How do you find them, Jack? Still, I'll be gone before they even know I was here.” He held out his hand. “May I?”  
  
     Jack tossed him the cylinder. “I will know, John.”  
  
     “Yeah. I was afraid of that. Sorry, Jack.”  
  
     He aimed the gun, but before he could pull the trigger, Ianto appeared at his side, knocking the gun away. He stepped back and his body began to turn transparent. “So it's true what they say about your Eye-Candy. Well done, Jack.”  
  
     He faded out completely. Ianto turned to Jack, eyes wide open. “What is he?”  
  
     “He's a psychic morpher. He can travel between dimensions. Probably a gift of his sidhe mother.” Jack was fumbling with his phone. “Owen? John has done something to Gwen. We need to find her.”  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the name for the Grail from Michael Moorcock's _The War Hound and the World's Pain_ , which I recommend to all of you.

     “Jack! Over here!”  
  
     The shipping containers had been arranged into three double rows resembling streets. Jack and Ianto followed the sound of Owen’s voice to the far end of the second row. As they got closer they realized Owen had a bloody bandage around one of thighs.  
  
     “What the hell happened to you?” Ianto asked.  
  
     “Jack’s old boyfriend decided to shoot Tosh if she didn’t give him the cylinder we found, and then shot me so we wouldn’t chase him or something stupid like that.”Owen waved their concern away. “Tosh used the scanner thinking that Hart probably had left Gwen near where they found their cylinder. Residual energy trail ran out right about here.”  
  
     Ianto looked around. “We’ll have to search them all, then.”  
  
     “May not have enough time,” Owen said. “The bastard told us she had less than an hour.”  
  
     “Where is Tosh?” Jack asked.  
  
     “Right here.” Tosh rounded the corner. “I’ve been looking for some way to narrow the location, but… Ah. There she is.”   
  
     Jack followed her look to a small raven perched on top of one of the containers.   
  
     “She thinks it’s impossible for a _wingless one_ to talk to her, so she’s been trying to ignore me” she explained. Closing her eyes, she focused her thoughts. _“Yes, I am talking to you, and I won’t stop until you answer me, so you might as well get used to it.”  
  
     “I’ll fly away. Wingless ones can’t follow.”  
  
     “ But large winged ones can. Have you not seen the one who flies at night? The one even eagles are afraid of? He is my friend.”  
  
     “He doesn’t scare me! I am big and brave!”  
  
     “If you are big and brave, isn’t it your duty to help smaller, helpless ones?”  
  
     “Oh, very well. What do you want?”  
  
     “Earlier on tonight. Two wingless ones were here. Did you see them?”  
  
     “Oh, yes. They made enough noise to wake the nestlings. The female found something in that stone tree over there and the male came up behind her and grabbed it. The female tried to fight but the male pressed their beaks together and the female one fell.”  
  
     “Did you see where the bigger one put the smaller one?”  
  
     “In one of the big nests over there, I think. I was too busy with the nestlings…”_  
  
     Tosh’s eyes flew open and she pointed. “Check those ones at the end!”   
  
     All the containers were locked with old-fashioned padlocks. Jack waved the others away and shot the locks off one by one. He ran into the closest one. It was half-full of boxes,  and it took him a minute or two to make sure Gwen wasn’t there. Nearly snarling in frustration, he headed outside. Owen and Tosh were already there. They shook their heads.  
  
     “Jack! Over here!”  
  
     They ran in the direction of Ianto’s voice. Inside the last container of the row they found Ianto holding an unresponsive Gwen. Owen knelt beside them, unmindful of his own injury. He took a deep breath and began to sweep his hands over her body, never quite touching it. The others could feel the energy building as Owen focused on Healing her.  
  
     “Check her mouth,” Jack told him.  
  
     Owen nodded. His right hand fluttered over Gwen's lips and they began to glow a ghostly green.  
  
     “He smears a paste of calebas curare and wax on his lips.” Jack said grimly.”He's built up immunity to it over the years.”  
  
     “The raven told me he kissed her and she fell,” Tosh said, her voice breaking. “Calebas... that's the most poisonous of the curare plants, isn't it?”  
  
     “Yes.”  
  
     Owen's hands came to rest over Gwen's stomach. “She won't survive a trip to the Hub.” He looked at Jack speculatively over his shoulder. “Ianto, let Jack take your place, would you? Stay right behind him, just in case. Tosh, I need you on my side.”  
  
     She gave an unsteady giggle. “Always.”  
  
     Ianto shuffled out of the way, still on his knees, and Jack took his place. 'What do you want me to do?” he asked Owen.  
  
     “Call her back.” He grinned at Jack's shocked stare. “A Gate swings both ways, Jack. Hadn't you realized it?”  
  
     Jack shook his head, but bent to put his arms around Gwen's body and lift her against him. He had never even considered that he could call a soul back to its body. He didn't even know where to start. “Owen, I don't think...”  
  
     Ianto put his hand on Jack's shoulder. “You can do it, Jack. Tell her to come home, that she belongs here with us, with Rhys and their baby.”  
  
     Jack nodded. Bending his head, he pressed his lips to Gwen's forehead, then her lips. He repeated Ianto's words in his mind over and over again. _Come home, Gwennie, come home, who'll take care of Rhys and Aine if you're not here, you belong back here with us, we're waiting for you, Rhys is waiting for you..._ He felt her spirit yearning for something only she could see, but his words seemed to reach her. She turned back towards him. _Jack? Rhys, Aine, Andy, Ianto, Tosh, Owen... home. Home_.  
  
     Suddenly the body in his arms convulsed as Gwen tried to fill her lungs. Owen pulled her up to a sitting position and rubbed her back as she gasped for air. Slowly, one breath at a time, she settled down until she was leaning comfortably against both men.  
  
     “I am going... to kill.... him.” She gasped between breaths. “He's... dead... meat.”  
  
     They all burst into slightly hysterical laughter, feeling weak with relief. “I'll hold your coat,” Owen promised. “But first, we need to take you to the Hub. We've lost the race, anyway. Hart has all three cylinders.”  
  
     “About that.” Tosh said. “I did give him the cylinder, but...” she opened her hand to show a tightly rolled piece of parchment. “I kept the contents.”  
  
     Owen let go of Gwen to throw his arms around her. “That's my Tosh!”  
  
     “Back to the Hub, then.” Jack said, pulling Gwen up in his arms. “ With the third parchment missing, he's going to have to come find us.”  
  
     They returned to the SUVs as fast as they could. Jack slid into the driver's seat of one. “Owen, back seat with Gwen. Ianto, you and Tosh follow. Keep the comms open.”  
  
     They were half-way to the Hub when he heard Tosh speaking to Ianto. “This thing is gibberish.”  
  
     “Perhaps it's coded.”  
  
     “It's coded, all right. In the simplest code imaginable. I didn't even need to use the computer. And what I got was a jumble of words.”  
  
     Tosh's words set off a bomb in Jack's mind as he realised that he had been misreading the situation all along. “Damn. Damn!” He snarled. “It's the Hub. And we handed it to him!”  
  
     “Jack?” Ianto asked. “What's wrong?”  
  
     “It was never about the grimoire. The Hub is shielded from psychic as well as physical intrusion. John wanted access to the Hub. Morphers are kept out by certain magics unless they are invited...”  
  
     “Like vampires?” Gwen blurted out as she struggled to sit up.  
  
     “Similar mechanism.”  
  
     “What would he want from the Hub?” Owen asked. “I mean, secured Archives and all that, but...”  
  
     “No. John wouldn't play for low stakes... Ynys Afalau.” He stomped on the accelerator. “He wants to get to the Isle!”  
  
Ianto laughed. “Jack? Don't worry. He's not getting anywhere near the tunnels.”  
  
     “He's the best damn morpher in the business, Ianto. Once inside, he can pretty much go anywhere.”  
  
     “Not this time. You'll see.”  
  
     They zoomed into the parking lot. Jack barely got the SUV parked and he was out and running, Ianto at his heels. They burst into the Hub, weapons drawn. Jack looked around frantically... only to skid to a stop at the sight of John standing in the middle of the main work area, while Janet the weevil amused herself by poking him with the point of a wicked-looking spear.  
  
     “When you were away, we sometimes needed to leave the Hub unattended. Owen suggested we see if Janet would be willing to help out. Did you know that magic does not affect them? Yes, of course you would. It seems she likes to be helpful.”  
  
     By the end of Ianto's little speech Jack was bent over with laughter. “Well, John?”  
  
     “Call off your guard dog? You win, all right?” Hart looked past them. “There you are, Gorgeous. I'm relieved they managed to get to you in time.”  
  
     Gwen ambled up to him. Something in her eyes must have gotten through, because he tried to back up, only to find himself on the business end of Janet's spear. He took a deep breath and gave her a resigned grin.  
  
     “Go ahead. Get it out of your system.”  
  
     Gwen examined him. “Nah. I'm going to save it all for the next time I see you. If you show your snout in Cardiff again, we're going to play, you and I.” She started to turn away, then pivoted and plowed her fist into his stomach. As he bent over, her other fist caught him under the jaw. “That is for nearly making me miss my own wedding.” She walked past him to flop on the couch. “Ianto, get him out of here.”  
  
     “You heard the lady.”  
  
     “I'm going, Eye-Candy. I've learned when to cut and run. Jack...” he shook his head. “Never mind.” He started to fade, then his eyes turned vicious. “I suppose I should tell you. I've found the cure.” Then he was gone.  
  
     “The cure?” Owen asked. “The cure to what?”  
  
     “To a Dark magician there's only one Cure, Owen. The Cure for the World's Pain.” Jack looked at all of them in turn. “John thinks he's found the Holy Grail.”   



	5. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yggdrasil, or Odin’s Horse, is the Word Tree. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yggdrasil. Lethe is one of the rivers of Hades. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lethe

     Jack made a slow turn, taking in the gigantic sectional with matching ottomans facing the fireplace, the octagonal glass table near the French doors that looked out to the balcony and the bay beyond, and the small but efficient kitchen tucked in at the far end. The room was a perfect blend of his and Ianto’s tastes. His small collection of antiques and family heirlooms were beautifully displayed against the backdrop of the modern Italian furniture Ianto had chosen. Deep blue and silver predominated, and large, exquisite floral watercolors graced the walls and the fireplace mantel.  
  
     “Beautiful art. Where did you find it?”  
  
     “They’re Rhi’s.”  
  
     “Your sister? I didn’t know she painted.”  
  
     “She used to in school. After Gareth died she started again. She says it kept her sane.”  
  
     Jack remembered that Rhiannon’s husband, Gareth Evans, had died at Canary Wharf. “I’d say it’s progressed beyond therapy.”  
  
     “She’s having her first show in the fall at the Cardiff Academy gallery.” Ianto touched Jack’s shoulder gently. “Coat?”  
  
     Jack shrugged it off and let him take it. “Thanks.”  
  
     Ianto hung up the coat next to his in the tiny closet near the front door. “I’ll make us some tea.”  
  
     “No coffee?” Jack pouted.  
  
     “It’s nearly two in the morning, Jack. If we drink coffee now we won’t get any sleep. Why don’t you explore the rest of the flat while I get the tea?”  
  
     “All right.”  
  
     He blew Ianto a kiss as he headed for the door that led to the library. Smiling, Ianto mimicked grabbing it in midair and putting it in his pocket. It was a silly, romantic gesture they had indulged in hundreds of times, but Jack had to fight a desperate need to cry. His world was back to normal. He was safe.  
  
     The library was exactly as they had planned it. Big fireplace, deep club chairs, glass-fronted barrister bookcases lining the wall, and his own one indulgence, an antique billiard table. A gentleman’s club, Ianto had teased him, but he had finished it exactly as Jack had envisioned it. It made Jack realize that what Gwen had told him earlier was the absolute truth. Ianto had always believed he would return.  
  
     He felt a sudden rush of happiness at the thought. Whistling, he opened the discreet door to one side of the fireplace. The rooms beyond had been designed as their sanctuary. Walking in was truly coming home.  
  
     His bed, a gift from his Cashel cousins, was the only piece of furniture in the room. On either side of the headboard, elegant niches provided space for personal items and a book or two. Pot lights in the ceiling could be positioned in any direction. It was calm and peaceful and suddenly he felt very tired. He knew that the two doors to the left of the bed led to the bathroom and the dressing room, but he had no more energy left for exploration. Sitting down on the bed, he stroked the cool Egyptian linen sheets and duvet. In white, of course, as Ianto insisted that was the only proper color for sheets. Yawning, he removed his boots, socks, shirt, and braces, and leaned back. He would just close his eyes for a moment, until Ianto came in with the tea…  
  
     The sound of rain hitting the windows woke him. He was startled to see daylight, even though murky and dull from the storm. He was even more startled to realize he was nude under the sheets. Ianto must have…. Oh God. Ianto had seen him.  
  
     He started to sit up only to find himself held down by a gentle hand on his arm. “Be careful. Owen said you could be a little dizzy from the medication.”  
  
     “What happened?”  
  
     “I found you asleep. I thought it was best if I just got you comfortable and let you rest. When I saw the damage I called Owen. Good thing, because you started to twist and throw yourself about so hard I could barely hold you. He gave you something for the pain and a very strong sedative.”  
  
     “How long have I been out?”  
  
     “Three days.”  
  
     Jack made a quick inventory of certain biological imperatives. “My bladder should be bursting.”  
  
     “You’ve gotten up several times. Went to the bathroom, had some tea and toast.”  
  
     “I don’t remember any of it.”  
  
     “Owen told me it was quite normal.” The hand on Jack’s arm move hesitantly to his chest. “Jack. Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
     “Have you had any rest yourself?”  
  
     “Yes. Rhys and Andy have both been here and banished me to one of the guest suites for several hours at a time. And last night you were much calmer. Jack…”  
  
     “It’s… just hard to talk about it. Help me sit up.”  
  
     Ianto put an arm around Jack’s shoulders and gently pulled him to a more or less vertical position. With his free hand he piled cushions and pillows against the headboard. “Shuffle back. That’s it. Comfortable?”  
  
     Jack nodded, not looking up. Ianto resumed his position at the edge of the bed. “Talk to me, cariad. What did this to you?”  
  
     “Not what. Who.” Jack took Ianto’s hand in his. “What do you know about the Sleeping Ones?”  
  
     He could feel Ianto shiver, but when he answered his voice was steady. “When the great Norse gods lost their followers to Christianity they refused to cross over into the next world to join the souls of their worshippers. They sealed themselves away in Valhalla, used powerful magics to maintain their physical forms, and then went to sleep, waiting for the time when new worshippers would arise.”  
  
     “A few months ago the Doctor started hearing rumours that someone was trying to wake the Sleeping Ones. He knew there was only one person mad enough to attempt it. The Master of Souls.”  
  
     “Duw, Jack.” This time Jack could hear the tremor in Ianto’s voice. “If he had managed to absorb the essence of a God…”  
  
     “Yeah. It was a race, and we lost. By the time we reached Valhalla, the Master had woken up one of them. Not that he enjoyed his triumph.”  
  
     “Who did he wake up?”  
  
     “Odin himself. It was a disaster. Odin took control of the Master’s Souls, put him in a cage, and played with him like a cat plays with a bird. We tried to get him out… there was no way we could leave him there, not like that, even if he was… who he was. The Doctor and I were captured, and brought into Odin’s presence.” It was Jack’s turn to shiver. “He was utterly insane. Even the Doctor was scared… He was going to put us in cages too, but the Doctor distracted him with an offer of new followers. They bargained. The Doctor would go find those new followers and I… I would stay behind as a hostage against the Doctor’s return.”  
  
     “Jack!”  
  
     “We had to stop him, Ianto. A mad God would be a thousand times worse than Abbadon. At first it wasn’t terrible, but one day, in a fit of rage, Odin decided to teach the puny little mortal his place. He hung me on Yggdrasil. He wrapped me in Yggdrasil’s branches and left me there.” He rubbed his face until he left red streaks on his forehead and cheeks. “It hurt. It hurt so much. Yggdrasil is alive, Ianto, and it’s in constant agony, and when you touch it you can feel the pain in your own bones. And it is wise, wisest beyond anything you can imagine, and its wisdom pours into your mind until you go mad with it.”  
  
     Ianto scrambled into the bed and took Jack in his arms. “Shush, cariad. You’re safe now.”  
  
     “I don’t know how long I hung there. When the Doctor showed up, I was past caring. I think I was going blind and deaf, I don’t know…”  
  
     “How did he stop Odin?”  
  
     “He and Martha managed to get some water from Lethe. Martha nearly died in the process, and the Doctor wasn’t much better… It makes a mortal forget but it puts a God to sleep. Martha tricked him into drinking it. Once he was asleep, we sealed him back up in Valhalla and came home.”  
  
     “I’m glad to have you home.” Ianto pressed soft kisses into Jack’s hair. “Why don’t you get a little more rest? I’ll make us some lunch and wake you when it’s ready.”  
  
     Jack clutched at him. “No. Don’t go. I want us… I want…”  
  
     “Jack, you should rest…”  
  
     “No! I want… I need… touch. Your touch. On the way back, Martha kept me from slipping back by cuddling me at night. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t you!”  
  
     Ianto tilted Jack’s head until he could press their mouths together. “All right, cariad.” He began to kiss Jack, moving from lips, to neck, to shoulders, to chest. Jack could feel his skin start to tingle as arousal washed through him. He reached for Ianto but found his hands pressed firmly on to the mattress.  
  
     “No. Part of you is still back there. Let me bring you home.”  
  
     With a sigh, Jack surrendered to his lover. He had survived. He was alive. He was home.


End file.
